


Home

by Nebulad



Series: Here Comes The General [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, MQ Spoilers, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:26:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6491656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronnie didn’t announce herself, but the Minutemen did it for her when she parted them like a shark fin in water. “He’s been doing a fine job running things, but maybe next time you oughta try and rush back.” <i>That</i> sounded ominous. </p><p>“Did something happen?” She took a few steps back, tentatively eyeing the Castle interior.</p><p>“No, but two days is a long time when you don’t know if someone’s dead or alive.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cherry stayed in the Institute for two days. The first day was to gain her bearings— she’d almost forgotten what it was like to be clean, and Shaun insisted upon having her wounds sterilized and healed properly. He’d given her such a _look_ when she’d tried waving him off with _wasteland first aid suits me just fine._ It looked so much like her mama had looked sometimes that she’d just been shut right up. Nate always said Shaun was a dead ringer for his grandma.

The second day was to introduce herself to everyone and very tersely move through the different departments. The whole place was two parts sci fi flick, one part Wonderland. Everyone wore these weird ass pristine white jumpsuits (she declined, and so Shaun insisted on someone washing _her_ clothes) and smiled at her like she was back in the suburbs where the war never touched. They had fresh, leafy green plants, giant kinda-alive gorillas, and barely any of them did any manual labour— that was for synths.

The synths… they were _creepy._ She felt bad for thinking it— she didn’t have a thing against them— but they made her skin crawl, even the ones that looked human _(especially_ them, maybe).

Shaun wanted her to stay longer, but she had responsibilities on the surface. She could see too that he’d been half waiting for her to announce her return to the wasteland— he had a job ready to go as soon as she told him. It made it hard to tell if he’d really wanted her to stay or if he was trying to butter her up.

When she teleported back to Castle, she was flung headfirst into the radio stand. Lucky her, she didn’t knock anything important over, though she _did_ scare the shit out of the night-shift radio operator. She straightened herself up just in time to stop the few settlers in the immediate area from pumping her full of .38’s in defence of the fort. “It’s okay!” she insisted, holding up her hands. Once they recognized her, it was like the whole Castle breathed a sigh of relief and closed in on her.

People poured in from the small field they had built along the inner wall, and guards leaned over the railings on the battlements. She waved and tried to brush off a few well-meaning hands patting her on the back and sometimes just reaching out to make sure she was really there. “Where’s the Colonel?” she asked, waving off the concerned guards that approached her to make sure she was okay (from her trip or from her spectacular crash).

“The office— been there all week.” Ronnie didn’t announce herself, but the Minutemen did it for her when she parted them like a shark fin in water. “He’s been doing a fine job running things, but maybe next time you oughta try and rush back.” _That_ sounded ominous.

“Did something happen?” She took a few steps back, tentatively eyeing the Castle interior.

“No, but two days is a long time when you don’t know if someone’s dead or alive.” That almost sounded like experience, but Ronnie wasn’t the type to share. “Go on and let him know you’re back before the settlements start calling in.”

Cherry turned slowly, making sure the assembled crowd had their fill of making sure she was still alive. Questions would have to wait— in retrospect, leaving Preston hanging was awful. She hadn’t meant to do it, but Shaun just… wiped everything else away. That was damn thoughtless of her, to forget she had people up top that were waiting.

He’d understand. She knew he would but it didn’t make her feel a whole lot better.

Cherry made her way over to the office as fast as she could to make up for the days she hadn’t even thought about Pres. The room was the General’s (and if you were smart enough to catch on, the Colonel’s too), both bedroom and conference area. People tended to be polite and stay out past a certain hour, but she liked that extra level of accessibility and hated the idea of all her crap taking up two separate rooms. Best to shove it all in one and deal with a few curious glances at the improvised double bed.

He was sitting at her desk, staring down at a file. She would have said he was reading it, but his eyes didn’t move too much and his whole torso seemed to be propped up by his elbows on the table. His hat was on the rack and he looked about ready to call it a night— and like he should have done so about a day ago.

Cherry knocked without really knowing why. She wanted to dive into the room and squeeze him ‘til he forgave her for leaving him hanging; or she wanted to drag him to bed because he looked like a hot mess with a tired smile a little more _tired_ than _smile._ He barely seemed to see her as he dragged his head up, but when he finally did?

He knocked over his chair.

Preston hugged her so tight she came off the ground, and she could feel him grin against her neck. He was at a loss for words, it seemed, but so was she— what could she say? She wanted to tell him about Shaun, about the inside of the Institute, about the gorillas and unmutated veggies and the sterile white tile walls, but it wasn’t the time for mission debriefs. “Have you slept, Pres?” she asked instead, not at all minding when he kissed her instead of answering. She ran her thumb across his cheek, deciding to take the gesture as a definite _no_ , or at best a _not very well._

“I won’t lie, General, for a little while there I thought…” Almost as soon as he regained the ability to speak, he went and lost it again. She laughed, sounding more watery than she thought she would.

“Preston Garvey,” she scolded. “Doubting a superior officer? I’m hurt!” She pressed both hands against her heart, but he took them just as quick. He kissed her still-bloodies knuckles and against her palms, then seemingly unable to resist, he dropped her hands and put his arms around her shoulders, letting her bury her face against his scarf that smelled like the ozone of his laser musket and the same saltwater scent that soaked through the Castle’s walls.

“You’re not, though, and that’s what I want to focus on.” he mumbled against her hair. She warmed, not even realizing how _cold_ she’d been since setting foot in the Institute, and brought his waist closer to her until there wasn’t room to breathe. All at once she realized what about her reunion with Shaun had left her wanting— he’d seemed _satisfied,_ like he’d won a bet getting her there, instead of _excited_ or even curious. But Preston?

He was real good at making her feel like she was home.


	2. Chapter 2

_The report is important. Focus on the report._ Crop yield from Sanctuary was swimming before Preston’s eyes, and beside it Sturges’ letter was too. He’d tried to read it but nothing was getting through tonight, just like nothing had been getting through the night before. Words rolled outside their lines and he couldn’t force his mind to take in any meaning.

It was the loose pipe on the molecular relay. The same image kept playing over and over in his head since he’d seen it— Cherry was standing there, looking nervous. Her hand was pressed against one of the metal columns on the molecular beam emitter and her eyes were trained right on him. Sturges talked to her and handed her the holotape and she smiled, but her eyes never left Preston’s. He didn’t try to make her look away either, and didn’t say a word— what had there been for him to say? She was determined and he believed in her.

Then that damn pipe had come loose right before the beam hit her and something had come loose in Preston that hadn’t quite managed to fix itself yet.

He was under her orders to go back to Castle and _take care of things_ while she was gone. He usually did this sort of paperwork anyway— he was better at reading the handwriting of their settlers than she was, which didn’t surprise him if her letters were anything to go by. They were pristine and made Preston hope that one day writing would come back.

He hadn’t been doing his job as well as he could, but he couldn’t stop thinking about that damn pipe and how _scared_ she’d looked. _That_ was the moment she’d broken eye contact with him— the pipe had blasted apart by her head and she’d turned to gape at it before the beam had come down and she’d disappeared.

Sturges tried to tell him that of all the things that could’ve gone wrong, the loose pipe was cosmically insignificant. “I mean, I did tell her it was just for decoration and that wasn’t _entirely_ true, but the thing still had two good pipes on the other supports. We’re damn lucky that was all that exploded.” Any other day and any other machine and Preston would have been reassured— hell, he wouldn’t have doubted the mechanic in the first place, but it _had_ to be the relay and it _had_ to be her on it.

There was a hiss and a collective sigh from the courtyard, but he ignored it. It was probably just some Raiders poking along the outer perimeters— nothing he said could ever reassure the settlers that short of an army, nothing was getting in this fort. The walls were solid, thanks to Cherry. Everything they had was thanks to her and it’d been _two days_ and he was starting to think that…

He pushed that away, resting his elbows on the table and letting his head sag into them. He should sleep. He _had to_ , because he hadn’t since he’d seen the pipe come apart, and if she came back _(when_ she came back) she’d be—

Someone knocked and he tried not to sigh. _Raiders aren’t a problem, no we’re not sending someone out after them, I’m sorry but Raiders aren’t a problem._ He couldn’t risk troops that could fight off bigger fish (possibly literally fish) for Raiders that couldn’t breach the wall, no matter how scared they made the few settlers that tended the fields. He dragged his head up with a smile already in place, and when he saw the general standing there it was like all the wind got knocked out of him. He stood up— he _heard_ the clatter of the chair behind him but he didn’t care.

She was _home._ She was _safe._ Right at that moment, that was all Preston cared about in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got prompted to do a piece from an alternate POV so I chose this one. Rather than post the same story twice, there's a chapter two now !! [My writing blog](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) where you too can prompt me to do stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> my first preston fic bc i do love him but unfortunately im not a good enough person to settle into a minuteman playthrough until ive been through the other ones 600 000 times. [My writing blog is here](http://www.nebulaad.tumblr.com) if you want to see hot n ready fic on ur dash.


End file.
